


Ghost in the Machine

by The Results are Iridescent (flyingllamas)



Series: right on one side, wrong on the other [3]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-27 22:40:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13890639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flyingllamas/pseuds/The%20Results%20are%20Iridescent
Summary: There's a ghost haunting Hana's MEKA and she wants it gone.





	Ghost in the Machine

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'd by Hunterx700 and Kangoo!
> 
> As always, my tumblr is llamastheflying.tumblr.com if you wanna hit me up with any questions or complaints.

The hangar was, perhaps, the quietest place in all the watchpoint. 

 

At one time, that certainly hadn’t been true. In Overwatch’s prime, roaring engines and the sheer noise of machinery filled the spaces between dropships and the walls, with the chatter of troops stopping up any gaps there may have been. It was what Hana Song was used to. The MEKA program never had a quiet moment in its own hangars; the pilots were too young, the MEKAs themselves too hurriedly built and unrefined to be anything near stealthy, the space cramped from being shared with too many military organizations.

 

Now, there was only the occasional hum of the Orca’s quiet engine as Tracer performed maintenance on her ‘baby’, or the quiet rumble of Torbjorn’s voice as he talked to Bastion through repairing a shattered arm. Most days, Hana would swear she could something else: an echo of laughter bouncing off the walls, the familiar clatter of a gun magazine hitting the ground after being fumbled in someone’s grasp, the phantom rumble of multiple engines running. It have been ghosts of the previous incarnation of Overwatch, or the ghosts of her own experiences haunting her.

 

Today, the silence was shattered and the ghosts scattered by her own frustrations. A choked scream of rage found its way out of her throat and she slammed her fists against the sturdy hull of the mech. Nearby, Torbjorn startled and dropped a wrench. The quirk of eyebrows as he peered over his work bench at her asked a silent question and she shook her head.

 

No, it wasn’t anything he could help with.

 

Something, or someone, had made its home it the rudimentary code of her MEKA and she wanted it out. 

 

It wasn’t harmful, or hadn’t been yet, from what she could tell. She found the scraps of code only because she went in to update her own batch that she put in place before the last mission (the greatest failing of the MEKA project, in her opinion, was the bare bones code in place, the machines were capable of so much  _ more _ ). 

 

Frustratingly, the code seemed to be everywhere, not just in just one block one place in particular. It obviously did  _ something _ but there were classes and objects that she was locked out of so she couldn’t get the full picture. Damn it, this was  _ her _ MEKA! She should be able to access everything on it. 

 

The alien code was so pervasive it concerned her; whoever had put it on the MEKA obviously knew what they were doing, even if she didn’t. That also raised another problem:  _ how _ had it gotten on her MEKA? A strength (and weakness, to some extent) of the program and its machines was that they were near impermeable to outside tampering, limiting the possibility of derailment by god AIs. You had to be literally in the MEKA, at the keyboard, to make any changes to to the code. There were no ports to access, no true external data-sharing connections (it had been absolute  _ hell _ to add Athena’s network to her system). Hana left most of the protections intact, for fear of what would happen without them. A hacked MEKA with her in it, self destructing, did not sound like her idea of a good time.

 

Hana rightly could not figure out how it had gotten there.

 

It was almost like a ghost appearing in a place that, by no rights, it ought to be able to get to, with no trace of anything to link it back to anything else. Buckling down, Hana began to hunt down the rogue lines of code. With anything else, she’d just flash the system and reinstall with a fresh boot. Flashing the MEKA would result in all of her own hard work erased (no ports or external sharing meant no back ups), so she would have to do this the old fashioned way.

 

The sun had drowned itself in the waters of the Mediterranean by the time Hana pulled herself from the MEKA, absolutely exhausted. It was all she could do to stumble to her room and fall face down on the bed asleep, but at least the odd code was gone.

 

* * *

  
  


Three days passed, and the code was back.

 

Not only was it back, but the mystery person who put it there left her a note at the most recent bit of code. In  _ purple _ text all of things, which should have been impossible for MEKA’s compiler.

 

_ //wow u found me congrats _

_ //that takes some skill _

_ //but u can’t keep me out _

_ //╭∩╮( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) ╭∩╮ _

 

Hana threw a wrench near her feet at the wall and screamed out her fury. Her (laughable) raging had what her viewers came for second (after her skill) and even intense training with the MEKA program had yet to train it out of her.

 

Not only was the code back, the hacker had somehow download an obsolete  _ language pack _ to the MEKA so that they could use stupid kaomoji.

 

Hana furiously scrubbed the code from the system and poked around the firewalls and security settings until she found a hole. Figuratively, it was the size of a pinhead in the grand scheme of things. Even worse, it had been  _ her _ fault it existed in the first place. When she’d patched Athena through, she’d left just enough slack in the settings that whoever this was managed to follow through, right on Athena’s tail. She patched the hole (literally and figuratively) and patted herself on the back. And that, she decided, was that.

 

The next day, before a mission with the rest of the crew, it was back. With no time to fix it, Hana left it, swearing to not sleep until all the leaks were fixed when she got back. It seemed harmless enough before, whatever it was, and it remained that way during the mission despite Hana’s worries. Still, she didn’t tell her team. It didn’t jeopardize them in anyway and this was her thing to fix, not theirs.

 

There seemed to be two sets of comments this time.

 

_ //guess who’s back _

_ //me _

_ //wink wonk _

_ //nice try but there’s always another way in _

_ // _ _ ☆⌒(≧▽° ) _

 

And then, what seemed to be a later comment:

 

_ //oh wow ur cuter than i thought you’d be _

_ //especially when ur determined _

_ //can’t wait to see what u do next conejita _

_ // _ _ (≧◡≦) ♡ _

 

Oh god. Somehow, they’d been watching her through the MEKA earlier on the mission. This was worse than she originally thought. What had they seen? What had they heard? The code was no longer just a harmless thing. A security breach could bring Talon down on their heads. If Soldier: 76 found about about this, she was going to be  _ so _ toast. 

 

She worked, without rest, for the next 35 hours until she found the next hole. Surprisingly, it wasn’t her fault this time; it was a small oversight by MEKA’s original coders. Before she abandoned her MEKA for the much needed comfort of her bed, she left behind something in the code, just in case.

 

\\\stay out of my MEKA and leave me alone

 

* * *

 

Hana slept for twelve hours, woken only by her rumbling stomach. Someone, probably Lucio, had convinced the rest of the team to let her rest after her stalwart crusade against the intruder. Still, her friend’s kindness could not save her from her own hunger. Somehow, she felt just as tired as before but at least she wasn’t in danger of falling asleep on her feet now.

 

She didn’t bother to change from her pajamas (baggy sweats and a hoodie with rabbits on it) before stumbling into the kitchen. Thankfully someone had just made a fresh pot of coffee (McCree and Soldier: 76 both drank it like no one’s business), so Hana filled up the biggest mug she could find with plain black coffee and rustled up some toast and hard boiled eggs before heading to the hangar. The rest of the base still seemed to be asleep, probably because it was still pitch black outside, but that was fine by her. 

 

Settling down by her MEKA, she tiredly pulled up several of its holo screens to run diagnostics. She’d been so fixated on the foreign code that she’d neglected her standard after-mission procedures, checking hull integrity as well as for other issues that could crop up.

 

She barely had time to bite into her toast when the systems flagged something. Something was what appeared to be a new module on the system, represented only by the picture of a purple skull next to the other icons for system management. No text labeled it and the empty eye sockets stared her down. There was no way around it: the ghost haunting her MEKA had found their way back into it.

 

She considered it the cartoonish skull. Absolute worse case scenario was the MEKA exploding, killing her and destroying what little equipment Overwatch had in this hangar. Still, her ghost (because that’s all she could think of this person as) hadn’t really done anything to harm her at this point.

 

Hesitantly, she touched skull on the holoscreen interface. It opened up something like her other modules, complete with an input line and GUI to display error messages or blocks of code above it. However, the colors were darkened to purples and blacks, things her MEKA should not be capable of displaying like the purple comments. 

 

No text or graphics beyond the basic UI displayed at first but as Hana poked around, trying to provoke some response from the module, text flashed below the input line that said    
‘ (˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) is typing…” To her horror, purple text popped up mere moments later.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  buenos dias conejita. u look cute in ur pjs. (❤ω❤)

Hana stared for a moment and then shrieked, toast falling out of her mouth. She scrambled away from the MEKA towards Torbjorn’s workbench, digging through his tool box until she found a roll of tape. Marching back over to the MEKA, she started taping over the cameras, starting with the inside and working her way out. When she finished, another message was waiting for her.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  aww there was no need for that. ( ; ω ; ) 

 

Panting and furious, Hana summoned the holo keyboard and typed back.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ :  get out of my meka

Her text was pink. And there was a bunny. Of-fucking-course. The ghost replied back immediately.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  no thanks. :P 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  you see there’s a cute girl who pilots this MEKA…◕‿↼

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  in all seriousness tho i’m not leaving.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  sorry not sorry.  (>‿◠)✌

／(･ × ･)＼ : why are you doing this

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : can’t tell you that.

／(･ × ･)＼ : who do you work for

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : can’t tell you that either. (￣▽￣*)ゞ

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : sorry conejita.

 

Fine then. If the hacker was going to be obtuse then Hana wouldn’t let them have the victory of staying in her MEKA. Hana exited the module and swapped over to her navigation module. The same skull popped up once more in a small screen overlay, announcing a new message.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : hey what r u doing.

 

Hana didn’t respond to it, instead plotting an auto-navigated course out to the middle of the Mediterranean, high enough that when the MEKA detonated it wouldn’t catch any boats in the explosion, but low enough to avoid any commercial air traffic. It was obvious at this point that the ghost would keep finding their way into the MEKA, no matter what she did.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : hey u don’t need to do that.

 

Permanent detonation was something she’d only ever seen in training. Most MEKAs were loaded with enough explosives to detonate but the munitions in it were not hot enough nor forceful enough to damage the MEKA permanently, allowing it to reassemble afterwords. Still, there was a charge she could load that would destroy the MEKA permanently.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : conejita, stop.

 

She really didn’t want to have to do this. There was no telling if she would be able to get a new MEKA. It was only by her good graces as both celebrity darling and good soldier that the program had allowed her transfer to Overwatch. They might not extend to getting a new unit. 

 

She slipped the charge off of her keychain, always kept close by in case of an emergency and loaded into a small panel in the front. Her chest clenching painfully, Hana stepped away from the MEKA that had become part of her the past few years. The thrusters lifted it slightly from the ground and ferried it out from its docking station towards the outward entrance of the hangar. Hana saw another message appear.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : I said STOP conejita.

 

Suddenly, the thrusters stuttered and whined, powering down. The MEKA shuddered as it set itself back down on the ground, a sure sign of a forced stop. On all of the interface screens, the same skull appeared. Pulling up the holo keyboard provoked no response from the MEKA. Despite Hana’s best efforts, nothing happened for a minute. Then, her screens flashed back to normal, save for the purple skull icon overlay. Touching it brought up the module once more.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) is typing...

 

Hana didn’t wait for the ghost to reply.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : who the fuck are you and how are you doing this

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : now if u play nice i’ll let you have control of your MEKA back. (҂ `з´ )

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i guess you can call me calavera.

／(･ × ･)＼ : what the fuck kind of name is calavera

／(･ × ･)＼ : is that even real

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : it’s not a name. and no it’s not real.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i’m just a very talented programmer that doesn’t like not knowing things. 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : that’s all u need to know rn. ( ´ ∀ `)ノ～ ♡

／(･ × ･)＼ : that tells me absolutely nothing

 

Hana groaned and curled up into a ball on the cold cement floor of the hangar, feeling like crying. In fact, she did start crying. This was above her paygrade. Soldier: 76 and Ana and Winston were supposed to handle enemy operatives infiltrating them, not her. They were going to be so mad when they found out she hadn’t immediately gone to them and god knows if they would even ever let her back out into the field with a compromised MEKA. She had fucked up big time.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : hey hey hey

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : there’s no need to cry i promise. (╯_╰)

 

Hana looked up to see the tape peeling back from one of the exterior cameras, likely due to heat treatment from one of the thrusters. The ghost could see her again.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : i dont thing you get to say that

／(･ × ･)＼ : *think

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : um, yes i do. i’m the one who is currently making ur life hell! (o^▽^o)

／(･ × ･)＼ : fucking fuck you

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : ur so mean conejita. (╥_╥)

／(･ × ･)＼ : what does that even mean

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : bunny. <3

 

Hana hiccuped out a shakey laugh and rubbed at her eyes. Of course it did. She should have known.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : see there we go! there’s that cute smile again. ヽ(・∀・)ﾉ

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : so here’s the deal:

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i’m not going stay out of your MEKA. it’s just not happening. 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i have a job to do, just like you, and this is it.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : BUT!

 

Hana waited for Calavera to continue, but they didn’t. Two minutes passed and finally the ghost started typing again.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : ur supposed to ask ‘but what?’ (￣ω￣;)

／(･ × ･)＼ : youre kinda a diva arent you

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : that would be u, cutie. ☆⌒(≧▽° )

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : see what i did there?

／(･ × ･)＼ : whatever

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : so cold. ( ╥ω╥ )

／(･ × ･)＼ : what thing are you going to offer me so i dont go straight to 76 with this

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : well u probably wanna keep ur MEKA .

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : and also keep fighting with the big o dub.

 

That was definitely true. At this point, her MEKA was basically her baby. And she didn’t want to go back to Seoul with her tail between her legs. Being a soldier was something she couldn’t leave behind now, much less the friends and family she’d made for herself here. 

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : duh

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : well no one has to get hurt by this arrangement. literally.

／(･ × ･)＼ : i find that hard to believe

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : it’s true!!! 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i just need to feed my bosses enough information to keep them happy.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : like if u guys are planning on attacking one of our bases.

／(･ × ･)＼ : youre with talon arent you

 

The ghost ignored her question.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i could see ur approach through ur cams.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : and warn our bases so they can evacuate or whatevs.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : bam, no one hurt! *magic fingers*

 

Hana shook her head. Who the fuck even typed like this? 

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : youre really weird

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : well, yeah. but that’s not a bad thing.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : what do u think? 

 

Hana paused and considered it. What would the damage be? She didn’t usually go on infiltration missions anyway and then she could keep her MEKA. On the other hand, she was betraying her entire team by just letting this hacker hang out and watch her stuff.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : so what 

／(･ × ･)＼ : youre just going to hang out and wait til i go on missions

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : pretty much.

／(･ × ･)＼ : uh how about no

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : what why?

／(･ × ･)＼ : you can still see everything thats going on with overwatch

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i can do that whether u agree or not chica.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : but this way u can keep ur mech and i can do my thing.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : what do u say?

 

Is it stupid to be so attached to her MEKA? To this semi-illegal, semi-terrorist organization? To people who have been the closest thing to real family she’s ever had?

 

Probably, but that had never stopped her before.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : fine

／(･ × ･)＼ : but the second any of my friends get hurt bc of you

／(･ × ･)＼ : ill detonate the MEKA

／(･ × ･)＼ : even if im inside of it

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : (happy emoji)

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : we r gonna get along just fine, conejita.

 

* * *

 

Hana doesn’t really noticed the ghost’s (Calabeza, as they called themselves, but Hana rarely thought of them as such) presence for a few weeks after their initial agreement, other than during her routine maintenance checks of the MEKA. The code remains and it was updated and patched occasionally, but not changed enough for any alarms to start going off in her head. The purple skull module remained on the MEKA’s home interface and Hana felt its eye sockets bore into her whenever she was around the MEKA. 

 

As time stretched on, the ghost started becoming friendlier and Hana wasn’t sure how to feel about that. With the tape removed from the cameras, a necessity to both let the ghost peer through and to avoid her teammate’s suspicion, they were free to watch her and they certainly did. Chatter from the ghost (because Hana swore she wasn’t going to engage the enemy more than necessary) became a constant thing as she worked on her MEKA. It was almost like the hacker was...lonely.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : so what exactly are you doing today?

 

Hana sighed and pulled herself out of modifying object classes. No matter what part of the MEKA’s interface she mucked around in, the module always found her and overlaid on her screen.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : im adjusting the calibration of the defensive shield

／(･ × ･)＼ : it gets off from time to time

／(･ × ･)＼ : and its also not reacting like i want it to

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i see.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i meant, what are u doing today? 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : like for fun.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : surely o dub doesn’t have a rule against that yet.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : sent an attachment: nofunjackmorrison.jpeg

 

She went to respond, but stopped with her hands hovering over the hardlight keyboard.  _ Why _ , exactly, was the ghost asking her this?

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : you dont need to know that

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : ur right, i don’t.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : but i want to.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : it’s called making conversation, conejita.

 

Hana scoffed.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : you must be really bored to be asking me stuff like this

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : maybe I am. 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : or maybe I’m just wondering what a cute girl like you does with her Saturday nights.

 

The tips of her ears started to burn as a blush started to spread down from them to her face and neck. Compliments weren’t rate, really the opposite. So many people commented on her streams and complimented or catcalled her in varying ways. More than one magazine had her name on some sort of list alongside other attractive women.

 

But one on one? In a private conversation like this?

 

Well, Hana wouldn’t willingly admit that she was less than experienced in that area.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : oooooh what’s this?

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : is this little bunny flustered about being complimented?

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : it’s just a turn of phrase, conejita. 

 

Hana quickly scanned the hangar. It was blessedly empty, with no one around to see her embarrassment. 

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : more and more im just convinced ur some crusty, creepy old man at talon

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : ha.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i’m not.

／(･ × ･)＼ : sure ur not

／(･ × ･)＼ : just what i need

／(･ × ･)＼ : some old perv spying on me

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i’m not a man or old. 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i’m a woman thank you very much.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : maybe a perv tho. (winky kaomoji)

 

A woman. A woman who was probably  _ flirting _ with her. Up until this point, Hana really hadn’t thought about the ghost’s identity beyond what organization they worked for and what they were really up to.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : again

／(･ × ･)＼ : just what i need

／(･ × ･)＼ : a perv spying on me

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : at least i’m a cute perv?

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : and smart?

／(･ × ･)＼ : i cant know that either

／(･ × ･)＼ : so its whatever

／(･ × ･)＼ : youre still just some mystery perv

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : u never answered my question, conejita.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : got a hot date for tonight?

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : if so, i’m jealous.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : of them.

 

How was she supposed to respond to something like that? She decided to ignore it. Calabeza had to be just messing with her.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ : i have a stream tonite

／(･ × ･)＼ : im surprised you dont know that

／(･ × ･)＼ : with all the spying you do

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : well, excuse me for trying to give u some amount of space.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i’ll be sure to keep a closer eye on u then.

／(･ × ･)＼ : please dont

 

The ghost only replied with laughing kaomojis and nothing else. Hana tried to ignore her taunting as she continued to work on calibrating the shield, but her mind kept skipping back to one thought in particular. How much did Calabeza watch Overwatch, really? She had to be in everything else already if she was able to find her way into the MEKA. Maybe she’d coded herself a blind spot into Athena’s system.

For that matter, how much did she watch her? Hana frequently hung around the small room allotted to her by Overwatch in just a hoodie and her underwear and did all sorts of embarrassing things. It was one thing for Lucio to walk in on her singing with her hairbrush as a mic. It was another for a potential Talon agent to be documenting this in whatever weird file they kept on her.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : ur blushing againnnnnn!

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : how r u so cute? it’s just not possible!

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : r u thinking about ur secret paramore?

／(･ × ･)＼ : please tell me you dont mean yourself

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : of course i did!

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : why are you so mean?

／(･ × ･)＼ : youre off your rocker

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : for u maybe!

／(･ × ･)＼ : you dont know me

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : don’t i? 

 

Hana didn’t want to think about that. This had to be some sort of mind game by Talon, she figured. She would  _ not _ let herself get psyched out by this freak. 

 

Satisfied for the moment with the work she had done, she shut down the MEKA, ignoring the ping of a final message from Calabeza. She’d test it later. Right now, she just needed to be away from this entire thing.

 

By the time she started her stream that night, Calabeza’s taunting was a little farther from her mind. After making sure her frame rate was smooth and going through mic tests, she opened up the stream. Usually there was a race by her fans to see who could comment on the stream first, but today’s first comment stood out.

 

_ good luck tonight, conejita <3 i’ll be watching  _ _ (˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻)  _

  
  


For the most part, Calabeza faded into the background after that stream. There were messages, sure, but Hana ignored them best she could. The less she engaged and collaborated with the enemy the better, she figured. Calabeza still showed up in her streams periodically and when she did, Hana might answer a question she had. Might.

 

It was easy to pretend that this not-so-small betrayal of Overwatch wasn’t happening. There was plenty else going on to distract herself. Lucio was acting oddly after some random guy broke his heart and Hana took her duties as Super Best Friend seriously. More and more missions seemed to crop up, which also helped. None of them specifically targeted Talon, though, so she was in the clear.

 

Until she wasn’t. 

 

Overwatch’s intelligence network picked up on a new Talon node on the edge of Hong Kong. It wasn’t a full fledged base, but it promised a new, violent insurgence into the already volatile climate of a failing citystate. To allow Talon to remain there promised no end of trouble, so Hana was dispatched with a small team to smoke them out, so to speak.

Something heavy and sick settled into her gut when she crawled into the MEKA and found a message waiting for her.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : sorry conejita.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : it’s time.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i gotta tell my bosses about this.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : the bad news is that ur not gonna find much.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : the good news is that this should be an easy mission!

／(･ × ･)＼ :  i hope you know i hate you

 

She performed her start up checks on the MEKA and let it ferry out of the belly of the Orca. The rest of the team was already on the ground waiting.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i wish u wouldn’t.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : because honestly…

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i think ur one of the most interesting people i’ve met in a long, long time.

 

One of the exterior cameras swerved out of Hana’s control and she tried to ignore it. It was obvious that Calabeza had taken control of it. 

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) :  i wish we had met in different circumstances.

 

“I don’t,” Hana muttered to herself. The streets of Hong Kong were eerily empty and quiet, too empty even for the early hours of the morning. If her team hadn’t been tipped off to the fact that Talon was aware of their presence before, they were now. 

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : ouch.

 

“Shut up!” she snapped. Thankfully, her team comm was muted for the moment. 

 

The building, for all intents and purposes, looked as though it had been abandoned for several decades. It probably still was, now that Calabeza had cleared them out.

 

“Song in position,” she said into the comm. “I’m not seeing anything, how about you guys?”

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : hana u need to leave.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : right now.

Hana ignored her.

“I have you and the building in sight, Agent Song,” said Hanzo. Likely, he was somewhere on the rooftops above her, bow ready. 

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : hana listen to me

 

“Wait, I’m seeing some movement around the corner from where you are,” Hanzo said. 

 

Hana saw it too. Someone had peered around the corner of the alley at her before retreating.

 

“I’m going after them,” she announced.

 

“Wait, Hana!” Winston commanded. “Don’t engage, we don’t have a grasp on the situation yet!”

 

“They’re going to get away and we’re going to be left with nothing!” she shouted. And it would be all her fault, was what she didn’t say.

 

“You don’t know that!”

She did though. Calabeza had told her as much.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : Hana!

 

The MEKA’s thrusters engaged and she vaulted toward the alley. Sure enough, a person with tactical gear on was sprinting down it, away from her. He took several shots from her guns in his leg but still continued to limp away from her, disappearing around another corner. She guided the MEKA after him, drifting slightly around the corner. 

 

At first glance, the alley seemed empty. A dark trail of blood glimmered under the dim city lights but the Talon agent was gone.

 

Suddenly, the sensors on her MEKA shrieked as something dropped behind her. An agent, a different one if their uninjured state was anything to go by, slapped something on the mech and stepped back as Hana whirled around to meet him. It was all she was able to accomplish before the MEKA shuddered violently, electricity coursing through it. Red warnings flashed across her screen before the MEKA suddenly ejected her from its dying hull.

 

Being ejected, especially when she wasn’t in charge of when it happened, was never fun. The MEKA spat her out and down the alley, causing her to roughly land on the stone street. She was already reaching for her side arm as she flew but wasn’t quick enough on the draw before a Talon agent kicked it out of her hand. A second kick smashed into her side and she tried to roll away, breath knocked out of her lungs, before another could land. It wasn’t a kick that struck her next.

 

It was a bullet.

 

It lodged itself beneath her ribs and Hana let out a cry. The roll caused the agent’s aim to be off slightly, but not much. She tried to roll away once, but a foot slammed down into her stomach as two more Talon agents approached her. 

“Sombra, we’ve intercepted one of the Overwatch agents, please advise,” the shooter said into the comm and the other agents trained their guns on her.

 

“No need for comms,” said a new voice. “I’m right here.” 

 

Hana lifted her head slightly to see a figure emerge from the shadows. Had they been there before? Judging by the agents’ collective flinch they hadn’t. She watched as the figure approached them, though she couldn’t make out who exactly it was under the hood they wore. It would be her luck, she thought, if this were someone like Reaper. The figure bent down to grab Hana’s gun where it had been kicked away and turned it back and forth, inspecting it.

 

“What should we do with her?” one of the other agents asked. “Reaper’s orders are to kill on sight but you told us to hold off so we could interrogate.”

 

“That I did,” said the hooded person. “That I did. Well, first, this is going to happen.”

 

Something flew out of their hands, startling all three of the agents and Hana. It seemed to do nothing for a moment until Hana’s comm shrieked with static as the object on the ground let out an EMP. She reached up and ripped it out of her ear as it screamed its death rattle. She was not the only one, however. The three agents around her were doing the same.

 

“Sombra, what--” The agent didn’t have a chance to finish his question before a bullet found its way between his eyes. Two more quickly followed and Hana scrambled backwards as the bodies hit the ground. She didn’t get far, though, before the person (Sombra, if that wasn’t a codename) caught her ankle. Hana tried to kick out but her other ankle was quickly caught in the same hand. 

 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” said Sombra.

 

“Who are you?” Hana demanded. 

 

“I’m hurt that you don’t know who I am,” said Sombra, drawing back their hood. In the dim light of the alley, Hana could see the cybernetic enhancements on her head faintly glowing purple. “But then again, this is the first time we’ve met face-to-face...conejita.”

 

“Holy shit.” Hana tried to scramble to her feet but failed as she slipped in a mixed pool of her and the Talon agent’s blood. 

 

“Hey, hey, hey, slow down!” Sombra stepped closer to her and knelt down. She emptied the gun’s clip out, dropping it and the ammo to the ground, and then began to dig  a pouch at her side. She procured a wad of gauze. “It’s not the best first aid but it’ll help you until I can get you back to your team.”

 

Hana flinched as Sombra pressed down on the wound.

 

“Fuck!”

 

“Hold that there for me, conejita,” Sombra said, guiding one of Hana’s hands to the gauze. She picked up the empty gun and dropped it in Hana’s lap. Hana scrambled to jam it back in its holster. “I’m getting you out of here.”

 

“I’m not going anywhere with you!” Hana spat and tried again to get up. Sombra beat her to the punch and helped her up, slinging Hana’s arm over her shoulders.

 

“Do you want to get back to your team or not?” Sombra asked, face inches away from Hana’s own. “Because there’s reinforcements coming in hoping to catch un grupo pequeno de Overwatch unawares. You  _ need _ to get out of here.”

 

Sombra seemed to wait a moment, probably seeing if Hana would fight her further. Hana only looked to the side and huffed. Carefully, Sombra helped her limp down the alley away from the bodies and the unresponsive MEKA.

 

“Why did you shoot them?” Hana asked as they turned around the corner. Ahead, she could see a firefight going down at the end of the alley. 

 

“Well, I prefer my bunnies alive, not dead,” Sombra said. Her voice was right in Hana’s ear and she was trying  _ very hard _ not to think about how nice it sounded. “And I shot them with your gun so it wouldn’t be traced back to me. My uzi is not exactly...una arma discreta.”

 

Hana’s head was beginning to swim as the end of the alley got closer and closer. 

 

“You lied to me,” she mumbled and she could feel Sombra’s gaze turn to her.

 

“I didn’t lie to you, conejita,” said Sombra. “They lied to  _ me _ . They said any violent action would tip off Overwatch to the fact that we had bug watching them, that they would just use the footage we got from you to scoot out. They lied to me. I’m sorry this happened.”

 

Hana said nothing in response. At that moment, Hanzo chose to pop around the corner. His bow whipped up with an arrow at the same time Sombra stole the empty gun from Hana’s holster and pressed it to her head. Even knowing it was empty didn’t stop the cold sweat from breaking out on the back of her neck.

 

“Drop the bow, cabron, or I blow her fucking brains out!” Hanzo hesitated and Sombra dug the muzzle of the gun into Hana’s temple. “Do it now!”

 

Slowly, Hanzo knelt down and placed the bow on the ground. His hands came back up in surrender and Sombra suddenly let go of Hana, letting her fall to the ground. The gun clattered down alongside her. Hana looked back to see what Sombra was doing, but she was already gone like a ghost.

 

Hanzo immediately recovered his bow and rushed to her side.

 

“Agent Song, are you alright?” he asked her, before speaking into his coms, “We have an agent down. Requesting medevac immediately. Currently location is one block west of the target.”

“Never been better,” she grit out and looked down at the gauze beneath her fingers. It was completely soaked through with blood as was the rest of her flight suit. “Where did...where did that Talon agent go?”

 

Hanzo shook his head.

 

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “When she let you go, it was like she melted into the air.”

 

Just then, Lucio came skating around the corner, McCree and Orisa in tow. The DJ joined Hanzo at her side and crossfaded the Sonic Amplifier over to a tune that made the pain in her side ebb slightly. 

 

“Tracer’s maneuvering the Orca in for a landing” Lucio informed her. “I’m going to stabilize you and get you loaded up. Orisa’s going to get your MEKA and load it up. Got it?” 

 

She nodded. The whine of nearby engineers announced Tracer’s arrival as Lucio finished the field bandages on her side before lifting her up into his arms. At her current distance, she could see the heavy bags under his eyes that had formed from exhaustion. Ever since their little talk, he hadn’t really been taking breaks between missions. 

 

“That’s her! Let’s move out!” 76 barked as more figures appeared at the end of the alley. Orisa covered their retreat, MEKA lifted up into one arm like it was nothing, and opened fire on the Talon operatives. All Hana could do as they boarded the ship was rest her head against Lucio’s shoulder and think of how much she had failed them all.

 

Angela grounded her for a week after the disaster of a mission, which meant there was little to do other than sleep. With Angela recommending a slower healing process, the Caduceus tech wasn’t made available to her so Hana was left good old pain meds, which made her sleepy. As soon as she was sprung from the infirmary she made her way down to the hangar, determined to do some good and figure out what had taken out her MEKA.

A message was waiting for her.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : hey conejita.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i know ur not going to get this right away…

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : but i hope ur doing better.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : sorry i disappeared like that.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : it was best that i did.

 

Suddenly, Hana didn’t feel like working on the mech. She turned on her heel and walked away, MEKA powering down behind her.

 

Every time she went down to the hangar, something new awaited her.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : conejita are you doing okay?

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : u didn’t stream tonight

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : don’t tell me u suddenly found a hot date and ditched me.

 

Every time, she turned around and left without working on her MEKA.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i can still see u.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i know ur ignoring me.

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : please talk to me?

 

Hana taped over the cameras and ignored the odd looks from Torbjorn and Brigitte.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : conejita what’s going on?

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : u haven’t been out on missions

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : and ur last patch on the system is from before hong kong

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i know u have taped the cameras over again

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : don’t make me check on you in other ways, hana

  
  
  


It all came a head nearly two weeks after the mission. Lucio had been shot by Widowmaker on a mission Hana was banned from due to her injury. Despite knowing deep down that it wasn’t her fault, that Talon was probably after the same target, and Widowmaker an impartial executioner, Hana fell into a deep depressive swing. Her second week of missing her stream went by and thankfully her fans understood.

She didn’t.

 

When Hana had been the newest recruit to the MEKA program, she had been called out on a mission near the Sea of Japan. The God AI there had reacted the omnium and on top of that, it leeched into the local populations of omnics, taking over their systems like a vicious virus. She’d been cocky and determined to handle one of the bigger fronts on her own, after being teased by some of the older veterans.

Obviously, she’d bitten off more than she could chew. The omnium had produced upgraded Bastion units and with multiple gunning her down, her hull integrity was quickly shredded. On the last bit of the MEKA’s life before it would eject her another pilot, the most senior of the program, had thrown herself in front of her and taken a barrage of explosive shells. The pilot’s MEKA quickly ejected her and as Hana’s MEKA was forcefully recalled by an override of her system by RKAF. As her MEKA retreated, she saw the pilot ripped literally to shreds by machine gun fire. The pilot’s MEKA self destructed shortly after, clearing the front line.

 

It was something she dreamt of every so often, but for the past two weeks straight it haunted her every nightmare. It wasn’t the pilot this time, though. It was Lucio, or 76, or even poor Reinhardt. She had failed her team through her bull-headedness once more and her mind wasn’t keen to let her forget.

 

After she woke up for the nth night in a row in a cold sweat and scream ready in her throat, Hana stumbled out of bed and down to the hangar. Only the emergency lights were on and again, ghosts of the past haunted her steps as she made her way towards her MEKA in the form of echoing echoes of shells hitting the ground and cries reverberating from the walls. She was going to end this. But first, she needed to say goodbye to what was probably the best part of her life.

 

“Hana, do you need assistance?” Athena asked as she crossed the hangar. “You seem highly distressed. I can wake up Angela or Lucio, if need be.”

 

“No...no, Athena, I’m fine, but thank you.” She rubbed harshly at her wet eyes as she stood before her pink MEKA. She’d been so happy when her request for the pink paint job was approved. With their advanced optics, traditional camouflage didn’t do much against omnics. The scrambling effects of the MEKA’s paint jobs did a fairly good job of messing with them though and pink happened to be one of the colors that worked well with it. 

 

Hana crawled inside the MEKA one last time and started up the interface. The green light, optimized by her through code to reduce stress on her eyes, shone on her as she curled up into a ball and sobbed.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i know ur in there

／(･ × ･)＼ :  leave me alone

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : why r u avoiding me?

／(･ × ･)＼ :  you ruined my life

／(･ × ･)＼ :  what more do you want

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : conejita i honestly didn’t know this would happen

／(･ × ･)＼ :  it doesnt matter

／(･ × ･)＼ :  you compromised my team

／(･ × ･)＼ :  and youre going to continue to compromise them

／(･ × ･)＼ :  i need to make sure you cant do that

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : don’t make me lock down your mech, conejita

／(･ × ･)＼ : i dont care if you lock it down

／(･ × ･)＼ : ill push it off the cliff if i have to

 

The green light turned purple as familiar skulls replaced all of her interfaces.

 

“Not if I lock you in here, you won’t,” said Sombra’s voice. Hana slammed down on the emergency eject button. Nothing happened. “That’s not going to work either.”

 

“Damn it, let me out!” screamed Hana. 

 

“Not until we talk this through. You’re being dramatic.”

 

“You’re not taking this seriously enough.”

 

“That’s rich, coming from a cute little bunny.”

 

“Stop patronizing me, damn it! I fought in a god damn war! Let me out!”

 

“No.”

 

Hana let out a screaming sob and slammed her hands against the hull of the MEKA. It, of course, did not budge. Sombra said nothing as she cried. Eventually, her crying dissolved into soft, watery hiccups.

 

“You done?” Sombra asked.

 

“Fuck you,” Hana mumbled, her head resting against her knees. 

 

“I’m going to take that as a yes. So first off, I actually am sorry things turned out like they did. Believe it or not, I’m not actually committed to this whole destroy-the-world thing these assholes I work for have going. I like playing both sides. I’m a bit more neutral than you think.”

 

“Sure you are.”

 

Sombra ignored her.

 

“I thought that a little bit of harmless surveillance would keep them satiated,” she continued. “They definitely have confidence in my abilities but I’m not going to dip too deeply into anyone, even Overwatch, just at their say so. I really figured it was win-win. They would think they had the upper hand on you guys and nothing important would happen. Obviously, I was wrong.

 

“That’s why this is going to be the last time I’m going to be talking to you.”

  
  


“What? Why?”

 

Sombra didn’t respond. Hana’s head shot up and she reached forward to peel back the tape covering the nearest camera. She glared into it and Sombra laughed.

 

“Hey, there’s your cute face. I’ve missed seeing you, conejita.”

 

“Damn it, Sombra, answer the question!”

 

Her ghost sighed.

 

“This has gotten out of control. I’m not going to let them use me like this. What happened in Hong Kong isn’t what we agreed to and I’m just going to let them think you’ve strengthened the protections on your MEKA enough that I can’t get back in. In some way, that’s pretty accurate.

 

“So, you don’t have to destroy your MEKA. I’m just going to withdraw everything I have entrenched in it so you can keep being a heroic little bunny that saves the day. It’ll be like I was never here.”

 

“Like a ghost,” Hana murmured, curling back up into a ball. She rested her cheek against her knees. Sombra chuckled bitterly.

 

“Yeah. Like a ghost.”

 

Silence fell in the MEKA and Hana sniffled, rubbing at her eyes once more.

 

“So that’s it?” she asked. “After all this harassment? All this worry? You’re just going to disappear?”

 

“It’s what I’m best at, conejita,” Sombra said. “I’m here one moment, gone the next.”

 

“I kinda pity the next person you’re going to harass,” Hana said with a small, breathless laugh. “Poor person won’t know if you’re flirting with them or messing with their mind.”

 

“Is that what you thought I was doing with you?” Sombra asked. She seemed genuinely surprised. 

 

“Well, yeah,” Hana said. “You just seemed to like flustering me a lot. And making me mad.”

 

“Conejita, I was actually flirting with you. I meant everything I said.”

 

“Even the pervert part?”

 

“Of course you would remember that.”

 

Silence stretched taut for a moment as Hana thought how best to voice her thoughts. She settled for burying her face in her legs so Sombra couldn’t see her burning face. Thankfully, Sombra spoke first.

“So yes, conejita, I meant it. I do actually enjoy your company even if you are a cold hearted little bunny.” 

 

“How was I supposed to know? You’re, like, a professional troll.”

 

Sombra laughed hard at that and even Hana giggled a bit. 

 

“Okay, yeah, I am. But you should also be better at recognizing when someone has the hots for you.”

 

“You’re awful.”

 

“You like it.”

 

And maybe she did, Hana thought. It was more than a little flattering to be complimented like she did but at the same time, she hardly knew Sombra. 

 

“...maybe.”

 

“Just maybe?”

 

Hana looked up and smiled at the camera, but Sombra only sighed.

 

“I was serious when I said this would be the last time we’d talk, conejita.”

 

“What? Why?”

 

“I’m not going to do to you what some other meatheads on this side of things do to the ones they’re keen on,” she said. “It’s not fair to you to have me mess up everything that’s going right for you just because I’m selfish.”

 

Lucio, Hana thought. And Doomfist.

 

“And you can’t say this isn’t what you wanted either,” Sombra continued. “Five minutes ago you were pretty sure that I was the worst person in the world.”

 

“I might still think that.”

 

“So I’ll leave your MEKA be.” 

Something about the way Sombra said that made Hana wonder, but she said nothing. Let her be that way, she figured. She’d eventually find out what Sombra was up to, sooner or later.

 

Probably sooner, rather than later.

 

“I guess this is goodbye then?”

 

“It is. I’m going to miss you, little bunny.”

 

“I might miss you,” Hana said cheekily, making Sombra laugh.

 

“I’ll take it.  _ Adiós _ , conejita.”

 

The interfaces of her MEKA flickered twice before resuming their normal green color. The familiar skull icon in the corner was gone. Despite her earlier distress over the ghost in her MEKA, the loss of it still made her a little sad. Sombra had been her (sometimes annoyingly) constant companion for long enough now that it was weird to not see it.

 

With control of her MEKA back, she slipped out and shut it down. The hangar was silent, devoid of any ghosts that might have been left behind. 

 

“You seem to be feeling better, Hana,” Athena said as she made her way out of the hangar. “Might I suggest stopping by the kitchen before you return to your room? Jesse appears to making pancakes in the kitchen and with the quantity currently available, I doubt he will be able to eat them all.”

 

“Thanks for the suggestion, Athena. I might do that.” 

 

Really, a nap sounded good right about then but Hana could see the sun starting to peek over the waters of the Mediterranean. As she wandered down the hallway towards the mess hall, her phone pinged in the pocket of her hoodie. When she unlocked it, there was a new app on her home screen. Grinning, she tapped it.

 

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : so i guess this is hello

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i said i’d stay out of ur MEKA

(˼●̙̂ ̟ ̟̎ ̟ ̘●̂˻) : i never made a promise about anything else

 

“Someone’s all sunshine and rainbows this mornin’,” McCree commented as she walked into the kitchen. True to Athena’s word, there was a perilously high stack of pancakes next to the stove. “What’s got you so cheery?”

 

“I made a friend,” Hana told him as she plopped down at the table and responded.

 

／(･ × ･)＼ :  im glad you didnt make that promise

／(･ × ･)＼ :  ／(^ × ^)＼ 


End file.
